


How Sweet

by Val_Creative



Series: 31 Days of Kinktober 2019 [20]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Barebacking, Campfires, Come Shot, Daryl Dixon Smut, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier Smut, Developing Relationship, F/M, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Mutual Pining, Older Woman/Younger Man, Outdoor Sex, POV Carol Peletier, Romantic Friendship, Sexual Content, hot dogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-31 07:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: There’s no one else left who knows her like Daryl does.





	How Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE CAROL AND DARYL SO MUCH. I'VE BEEN WISHING AND HOPING SINCE S1-S2. If you love them too, say hi!

*

They've been through so much now.

Apart.

_ Together. _

Carol knows she's only fragments of the woman she once was. Hardened slivers made of clear, tempered glass. But, Daryl… he's still the kindest and most generous man Carol has ever known. Blooming with life. An endless, flowering garden.

(He would absolutely hate that comparison, poor thing. That's why she's keeping her mouth shut.)

Daryl's palms roam over her back muscles, tracing and worshiping her. His blunt and soil-encrusted nails dig in. Carol shuts her eyes, feeling him shudder, and moans out. Daryl gives one last thrust, seating himself desperately between her naked, clenched buttocks. His cock quivers up against her, ejaculating globs of hot, sticky fluid onto Carol's skin.

She hums, leaning on her elbows, spreading her legs over the blanket and rubbing lightly around her overly sensitive clitoris. The early morning air smells like burned, old firewood. Daryl made sure Carol got hers first. Ever the gentleman. It's _adorable_.

"Pookie…"

"Stop calling me that," Daryl mutters, scooting away and zipping up his jeans. How romantic. Carol smirks, grabbing the rag Daryl tosses her. As she's wiping herself down, he yanks on his frayed, colorless V-neck. "Hey, I got something for you."

With a delighted, secretive look over her shoulder, Carol sees him rummaging. She slips back on her own top, Carol's nipples poking against the thin, lemon-yellow cloth. They've been fooling around, off and on, since Carol got back from journeying on the ocean. Helps to get her mind off of everything. The constant rocking of the waves, and the rocking of Daryl's hips on hers.

"_Awww_. How sweet." Carol beams, teasing him. "Is it another friendship bracel—?"

Her mouth drops open. She hesitates, speechless, as Daryl holds out a multitude of creamy white flowers with yellow centers. Their pollen so sweet-smelling. Cherokee roses, all twisted with miniature vines and leaves, shaped into a half-crown.

"I had, uh—I found a whole lot of them. On my way back patrolling. I asked Little Asskicker to put it together before we left."

Daryl bashfully glances away, still holding out the flower-crown.

"It's Sophia's birthday, ain't it?"

Carol's jaw twitches. A flash-flare of heat and sorrow behind her eyes. Her baby girl. Too _alive_, too innocent for the world of death and decay that laid ahead. "Yeah," she answers, inhaling and thumbing the moisture from her cheek. "It is."

He glances back, examining Carol's features before leaning in, pressing his mouth warmly to her forehead.

There's no one else left who knows her like Daryl.

_ (Small blessings.) _

*


End file.
